Star Power
by dudeurfugly
Summary: Oneshot. Sam and Dean are snowed in while staying at a motel in Minnesota, and Dean's bored out of his mind. What happens when Dean gets his hands on the video game Guitar Hero?


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything…sadly. **

**A/N: I don't know where the idea came from…maybe because there's so many snow storms hitting and whatnot, and my friends were playing Guitar Hero basically non-stop a couple weekends ago…Anyway, I felt the need to write the fic because I could definitely see Dean playing this game. Enjoy! Please review!**

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Sam Winchester peered over the screen of his laptop to see his older brother, Dean, pulling back the curtain of the front window. Again. He watched, amused, as Dean glanced around at the outside landscape and immediately frowned. He let go of the curtain and trudged over to one of the twin beds, sinking down into the mattress. It was like clockwork. The same routine--every two to four hours for the past day and a half. Sam was beginning to wonder when Dean was going to wear a permanent track into the motel room's dirty carpet. He was becoming so restless and bored that it was actually getting very entertaining to witness.

They had been stuck in the same motel room in Minnesota for the past four days. Originally, they'd been here to take care of a simple salt and burn job; a task that had been carried out pretty quickly. The ghost was more annoying than violent, and the boys hardly broke a sweat. They were all ready to leave…and then the snow storm struck. Or, more correctly, the_ blizzard_. The boys had never seen so much snow in their lives. It was ridiculous. A good four feet of the white stuff had fallen already, and it was _still _snowing. It wasn't just the fluffy, light kind, either. Oh, no. It was the heavy crap that came down fast, creating zero visibility. The kind that made driving a real pain in the ass.

The town was in a state of emergency and a complete travel ban had been ordered. _No unnecessary travel until further notice_, the news reports had said. Almost everything was closed (everything except convenience and department stores, some restaurants and businesses), because _apparently_ none of the damn weather reporters had accurately predicted the severity of the storm. To make matters worse, there weren't enough snow plows to start cleaning up the snow, and the snow was continuing to hammer the area, so most of them wouldn't be out on the streets anyway. Not until the storm let up…which, according to the oh-so-reliable weather reports, wouldn't happen for another day or two.

It was because of all of this that Sam and Dean were stuck in their motel room. Sam wasn't as bitter about it as Dean. Sam saw it as a sort of vacation; a temporary break from hunting. A chance to catch up on sleep and relax for a bit. In his opinion, it was well deserved. Aside from the last hunt, they'd worked their asses off for the past few weeks. Even if they could get out of this place, he hadn't tracked down another job for them yet.

Dean, on the other hand, had a different view on the situation. He couldn't stand being in this place longer than he had to. The whole thing had put him in a bad mood, for about three reasons: he was hungry, there wasn't a blessed thing on TV, and he was pretty sure that his Impala was buried under all that snow and ice. Needless to say, Dean wasn't a happy camper. To add onto his list of aggravations, he was also extremely bored. Said boredom contributed to the fact that he was looking out the window every couple hours, as if he expected the snow to somehow magically disappear so he could get the hell outta dodge.

The elder Winchester picked up the remote off the bed and began flicking through the channels while his younger sibling continued to surf the 'net. Dean heaved an annoyed sigh, finding nothing but cheesy soap operas--in both Spanish and English!--and daytime talk shows among the various news reports and infomercials. There wasn't even a crappy sci-fi flick on. He would've settled for wasting an hour and a half watching some badly acted, overdramatic, low-budget movie about gigantic, mutated spiders for crying out loud. But _no_.

Dean turned off the TV and stood, crossing the small distance to the kitchenette area. He grabbed his brown leather jacket off the back of one of the chairs, throwing it on as he picked up the keys to the Impala.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow as his brother made his way over to the door.

"The store."

"To get food?" Sam questioned, hopeful. The assorted bags of junk food and whatever else they had bought before the storm got bad wasn't doing his stomach justice.

"_No_, to get us some entertainment."

At that point, Sam could only _imagine_ what exactly Dean had meant by that.

"In the middle of a blizzard? There's a travel ban. If you're going anywhere, it's to get us _food_."

Dean just rolled his eyes and pulled open the door. Bracing himself, he stepped out into the terrible weather, closing the door tightly behind him. Once he left, Sam got up from his spot and watched curiously out the window to see if Dean would actually make the effort to go to the store. Dean pushed the snow off the Impala's trunk and pulled it open, rummaging through it before removing one of their shovels. Sam watched with a smirk on his face as Dean carefully shoved the snow off the car--a feat that took well over twenty minutes--without damaging the car itself. Once the windows were cleared, Dean tugged the back door open and fished out the scraper from the depths of the backseat. Once all of the ice was scraped off the windows, Dean climbed into the Impala and started it up. It took a few tries for the engine to turn over, but finally the Impala roared to life, and ten minutes later, he was pulling out of the parking lot.

Leave it to Dean to be the one to go out in the middle of a freaking blizzard to solve his _boredom_ issues.

Dean didn't return for about two hours, between the road conditions and finding what he wanted. When he finally burst through the door, he was carrying a couple large boxes covered in plastic bags. As soon as he slipped out of his jacket, he pulled the boxes out of the bags, and Sam was disappointed that he hadn't bought any food. Instead, Sam discovered that his brother had purchased a Playstation 2 and a video game called _Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock_. Sam had heard about how popular the game was, and that it was full of classic rock songs. Typical Dean.

"Dean, ya mind telling me how much you spent on all _this_?" Sam asked hesitantly.

Dean shrugged. "Don't know, don't care," he said as he started extracting everything from the boxes. "It's not our money anyway."

"Yeah, but Dean--"

"Dude, relax. It's totally gonna be worth it."

And so, Dean began setting up the PS2, hooking it up to the motel room TV. When that was finished, he took the game out of its box and assembled the plastic guitar, which was the wireless controller for the game. He put the actual disk in, and got ready to play while Sam sat with his arms crossed over his chest, surveying his older sibling.

"Ah, come on, Sam. Don't be all pouty. I'll let you have a turn when I'm done." Dean smirked.

"No, that's all right. _Really_." Sam said. His brother could be extremely immature at times. What had made him go out in that weather to buy this game instead of food, Sam didn't know.

"Okay then. You can just sit back and enjoy the show. Prepare to be amazed, Sammy." Sam rolled his eyes, cringing slightly at the use of his childish nickname.

Dean read over the correct controls, and then chose a Quick Play with the song "Slow Ride". He put the level of difficulty on Medium, because really, how _hard _could it _possibly_ be?

Dean was very sadly mistaken.

His hand-eye coordination was not all there--as a matter of fact, he had terrible hand-eye coordination for someone who was a perfect shot when it came to hunting. He couldn't hit the notes at the right time, and his fingers fumbled over the different colored keys. Which immediately resulted in some not so pleasant sounds. Not to mention being booed by the "crowd".

"Shut the hell up." Dean muttered when the booing didn't cease. It was getting on his nerves. His guitar skills weren't getting much better, either. Finally, he failed the song, and was forced to bump the level of difficulty down to Easy.

He played the same song, but even on Easy, he wasn't having any luck. Sam watched, trying his best to hold in his laughter, as his older brother struggled to hit the notes yet again. What didn't help was that Dean wasn't using his Star Power when he was supposed to, or the all-important whammy bar. When Dean failed the song halfway through, Sam could no longer contain his amusement.

"_Prepare to be amazed _is what I think you told me," he laughed. "I gotta say Dean, I'm not so amazed."

"Dude, _shut up_."

Dean tried the song again, because damn it, he was going to get through it even if he had to play it fifty times. But…he failed it about four more times. And Sam kept laughing, thinking it was way more entertaining to see his brother get so frustrated over a video game than the game itself. On the fifth try, he got toward the end of the song and then started hitting some sour notes. Once he failed it, he raked a hand through his hair, muttering an irritated, "Son of a bitch."

"Not feeling so high and mighty now, are we Mr. Rockstar?"

"You know what? Why don't _you_ give it a try?" Dean countered. "It's not as easy as it looks."

Sam stood, taking the plastic guitar from his brother, while Dean took a seat in the chair his younger sibling had been previously occupying. He sat slouched in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. Sam adjusted the guitar strap, slid it over his head, and retried the song that Dean had been attempting to get through, on Easy.

And Dean watched as his baby brother hit almost all the notes perfectly, only missing a few here and there. Sam used his Star Power and the whammy bar whenever necessary, making the "crowd" scream and cheer. He finished the song successfully, with a good score. Once he was done, he turned around and held out the guitar to Dean, an extremely smug look on his face.

Dean only glared. "Bite me."


End file.
